


Familiar

by TigerLilyNoh



Series: The Uncomfortable Adventures of Sam in Law School [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bisexual Sam, Bisexual Sam Winchester, Demons, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Law Student Sam, M/M, Multi, Past Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester-centric, Sam-Centric, Sexual Content, Smut, Student Sam, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-11
Updated: 2017-07-11
Packaged: 2018-11-30 23:05:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11473536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TigerLilyNoh/pseuds/TigerLilyNoh
Summary: Series theme: Sam chose law school over hunting, but it wasn’t exactly how he’d imagined it.This episode: The dynamic between Sam, Brady & Stacy changes and Sam gets an unusual guest.Warning: There's a fair amount of smut in this episode.





	Familiar

Getting through the midterms season had been a significant relief.  It felt like a small weight had been lifted with each passing exam or paper that was completed.  More than that, as he finished each one he was able to reallocate more of his time to studying the flip side and local supernatural events while Brady was giving him some space.

Despite the appeal of maintaining a narrow focus on either school or the supernatural, he did manage to practice self care over the five day stretch.  He still had enough money left over from what Stacy's family had given him to justify buying meals rather than surviving on only rehydrated carbs bought in bulk.  Granted he was maintaining his frugal habits by mostly sticking to one purchased meal a day, which was from any of the dozen establishments meant to cater to the broke college student crowd.

He'd emailed Dr. Neves twice to offer her some reassurance that he was starting to regain his emotional footing a bit and also to hopefully stave off a follow up appointment for at least a week or two.  In order to avoid having the emails feel artificially lighthearted, he confided that he'd started getting periodic nosebleeds accompanying his migraines.  Per her advice he made an appointment to see his neurologist, though he secretly wasn't sure how much medicine could help him now that there was a demon involved.  Regardless, Neves seemed sated by the proactive messages, each promising to keep her more up to date on him going forward.  He scheduled eight calendar reminders to email her, to give the illusion of either spontaneity or attentiveness.

He also made a point of attending that week’s AA meeting even though it was scheduled for the night before an exam.  Since the incident that had put him in the hospital over a year earlier, he'd been ordered to attend weekly meetings as a condition of his main scholarship.  Missing one meeting was forgivable, but two consecutive meetings was dangerous territory.  

Normally he would just go and be quietly supportive of other people- He didn't consider himself as having an active drinking problem.  Maybe addiction ran in his family, or at least his dad had drank too much whenever there was a moment of relative safety, but Sam didn't feel like he was facing the daily struggle that many of his peers were.  He supposed for him bingeing was the threat, like his dad had done.  For him it wasn't the opportunity of a night without combat that was the trigger, it was the moments of isolation & despair.  As much as he treasured his privacy to work, there was something about being alone with himself that reminded him of his childhood.

This time rather than sitting silently through the AA meeting he decided to talk, even just a sentence or two.  Saying something would probably help earn him points with Ella, the group's leader.  Aside from trying to make a positive impression by participating, he actually had something to say for the first time in a year.  It was short and to the point, but he still got a little choked up describing the painful moments leading up to him pouring the half bottle of whiskey down the sink.  The praise he'd received from the others made him a little embarrassed, though the small measure of pride it’d given him had lasted for a day or two before being quelled by his self-deprecating nature.

By the time he'd finished the last exam he felt like maybe he had school well enough under control that he could start tackling the rest of it with a little more confidence.  For the next month or so, he only had to really juggle Brady & his research.

* * *

Sam was sitting at his table reading through a case for his Sexuality & the Law class.  He glanced over at his laptop, which was sitting on his bed to see if the new essay on modern surveys of demonology had finished downloading.  It looked like it only had a few more minutes to go, giving him plenty of time to get ready for Brady coming over.  He turned back to continue reading the case, but found the tabby cat sitting on his open textbook.  The unexpected arrival startled him, causing him to kick his chair backwards in alarm.  His long flailing legs connected with the flimsy card table, knocking it over.  Papers & textbooks flew across the room in one direction as his chair fell backwards, tipping him onto the floor in the opposite direction.  

He scrambled to his hands & knees looking around for the cat.  Part of him was worried that he might've accidentally hurt it when he knocked over the table, but on second thought he was more concerned about whether he'd just pissed it off and was about to suffer whatever wrath a demonic feline was capable of inflicting.  The tabby strolled around the upturned table and stared at him.

“Stay back.”  Sam held up his hand at the cat, but he had no idea what to do.  He'd never confronted a demon before.  The cat meowed at him skeptically, then hopped up on his bed.  “Hey, wait- no.”

The cat curled up in the middle of the bed and yawned.  

“No, bad... cat.”  He wasn't sure what to say.  Telling the demon that it was bad felt like an oversimplification and redundant.  Sam looked around the room, the door was locked and he lived on the second floor.  “How'd you get in here?”

Sam grabbed his laptop and sat down on the foot of his bed as far from the car as possible.  He started researching how a demon could get into a locked room.  After a few minutes of searching he discovered that it was believed that demons were able to teleport.  He glanced over at the content looking tabby, then began searching for any insight into how to ward a room against demons.  As he searched the cat walked over and started climbing all over Sam's lap.  He tried to move the cat off of him, but it was relentless in its attempt to sit on the keyboard of his laptop.  When the cat was finally settled it began purring.

“What do you want from me?”  Sam asked, causing the cat to lay down, then roll onto its back, allowing easy access for a belly rub.  He wanted to ask the cat why it wasn't talking to him when he felt like an idiot.  Even if the demon understood him and wanted to communicate, it wasn't as if cats had the vocal range to speak, magic or not- well, as far as he knew.

Sam carefully extracted himself from under the cat before fixing his cheap table.  He took a piece of paper & a pen and drew out a rough approximation of a ouija board, then placed it on the table.  He took a one inch diameter key ring off of his keychain, placing it on the makeshift ouija board to act as a planchette.  As gingerly as possible he picked the cat up off his bed, setting it down on the table next to the board.  The cat stared at the board thoughtfully before looking up at Sam expectantly.

“What's your name?”  He asked.  Sam held his breath as the cat started pushing the planchette across the board- then off the edge of the table.  “You're an asshole.”

The cat began purring loudly as it flopped onto its side on top of the board.

“You know what's great?”  Sam asked, clearly rhetorically.  “Dogs.”

Evidently the cat did understand him because its tail whipped back & forth in agitation at the personal jab.  He didn’t have a problem with cats as such, he’d just always preferred the simple loyalty of a dog.  Though he supposed a demon possessed dog would probably be just as annoying.  He was watching the cat, debating how to dislodge the feline from his room when there was a knock at the door.

“Finished my exam early.”  Brady said loudly through the door.

“One second.”  Sam called out, then whispered to the cat.  “Get out.”

Sam scrambled to hide the iPad Bhavya had lent him and logged out of the private account on his laptop despite the incomplete download.  He pulled the ouija board out from under the cat, crumpled it up, then threw it in the trash can.  When he saw that the cat was still there, he picked it up and put it in the closet, closing the door with some mumbled apology.

He hurried across the room, took a moment to catch his breath, then opened the door.  Brady walked in and stopped just inside the door to stare wide eyed at something beyond Sam.  Sam's stomach knotted knowing perfectly well what had to be behind him.  The cat was sitting on the table, its tail whipping back & forth as it eyed the visitor.  The closest door was still closed, it must've teleported out.

“You- you have a… cat.”  Brady said quietly without taking his eyes off the tabby.  He looked completely thrown by it, almost unnerved.  Sam didn't blame him.  Brady wasn't exactly the domestic animal type.

“It's not like I have a c- I didn't go out and get it.  The cat just started following me.”

“For how long?”

“I've seen it around for a few days.  It must've gotten in my room while I wasn't looking.”

“You want me to…”  Brady pursed his lips in hesitation.  “I’m sure there's a shelter or something.”

The cat arched its back defensively and let out a low rolling growl.  Sam moved to stand between Brady & the cat, silently praying that he wouldn't end up with an enraged demonic tabby scaling his back in order to attack Brady.

“No- it's okay.”  Sam said hastily.  The last thing he needed was for Brady to accidentally piss off a demon.  Sam pet the cat until it was soothed.  “It just comes & goes around the campus.  It's not staying here.”

Sam hoped that the cat took the hint.  He walked back over to the door, then opened it and looked pointedly at the cat.  After a brief pause the cat hopped off the table.  It rubbed against Sam's leg in an almost aggressive display of affection as it went out the door and down the hallway.

“I'm not really a fan of cats.”  Brady commented as soon as Sam closed the door.

“I'll try to keep it from getting back into my room.”

“Thanks.”  Brady held up a bottle of Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon and a small box of actual wine glasses.  “This is our victory beverage.  I'm planning on swinging by Vin Santo to grab fresh pasta, so figure out what you want.”

“You could've just texted me.”  Sam pointed out the fact that an in person visit, and Sam's near heart attack, hadn't been necessary.  “What's going on?”

“We're done with midterms.  I was thinking that you might want to invite Stacy over to celebrate.”

That statement felt like it could almost be a trap.  Unlike Sam, Brady wasn't going to a school for creating or delicately picking apart choice wording to determine precise meaning, but Brady was as naturally shrewd as a person could come.  The fact that Brady had specifically suggested that Sam might want to invite Stacy over could've either been an innocent slip or a hint that Brady might not be particularly enthusiastic about the arrangement.

“Only if you want to.”  Sam reversed the burden, placing it candidly back on Brady.  

“Let's see if she interested.”  Brady mercifully referred to both of them as a united front.  It was a slight improvement.

When Brady just watched him for a few seconds Sam realized that he meant for Sam to call her right then.  Sam took his cell out and made a slight show of looking up her phone number.  The whole thing was giving him butterflies.  He wasn't sure how Stacy would react to the awkward proposition.  He didn't know how to even ask.  And all this while Brady was watching him, so he couldn't even pitch it to Stacy as a cover for their time spent together researching the flip side.  Hopefully she wouldn't be so offended that she'd cut ties with him entirely.

“Hey, it's Sam.”  He greeted Stacy as soon as she picked up, trying to give the impression that she didn't already have him in her contacts list.  “So… I have a kinda weird thing to ask you?”

“I'm listening.”  He could hear the skepticism in her voice.

“I told Brady about us having sex that second time.”

“Awkward.”  Stacy sighed.  “Sorry if I got you in trouble.”

“Actually…”  Sam glanced over at Brady, who was leaning casually against the wall enjoying the show.  “He suggested that I invite you over now that midterms are over.”

“He's cool with us hanging out?”

“He was thinking more for sex.”  Sam wanted to get it on the record with both of them that it had been Brady's idea and therefore neither of them should get angry with Sam should things go sideways.  “Do you want to come over for another three way?”

Without a more tactical way of asking, he'd opted to just get the invitation over with and see where the chips fell.  To Sam's relief, Brady seemed to be perfectly content, eyeing Sam with a new sort of glint in his eyes.  It was probably the way Sam had been to the point in bringing up the three way rather than beating around the bush- so to speak.  Brady always did find Sam's moments of assertiveness attractive.

“Wait, you guys do that like regularly?”  Stacy's voice was a bit higher than normal, but she recovered by the end of the sentence.

“We don't fuck around with random people,” Sam clarified.  “but we used to have three ways all the tim-”

“I'm free after 8:30 tonight.”

* * *

Brady took a sip of his glass of the Cabernet, then moved to stand in front of Sam.  He put down the wine glass and leaned in, resting his hands on Sam's shoulders.

“Are you okay?”  Brady asked in his nurturing yet somehow subtly seductive voice.

“Yeah, maybe a little anticipation… nerves.”  Sam admitted.  “Are you sure you're okay with this?”

“Tell me one thing,”  Brady kissed him so enticingly that Sam abandoned his own drink and wrapped his arms around Brady.  There was something about the way he tasted that always made Brady seize his attention.  Brady pulled back enough to look Sam in the eyes.  “Are you mine?”

In general, Sam didn't consider Brady the jealous type.  They didn't get upset about little things, like playful flirting with strangers or sharing a partner.  But two & a half years ago, Sam & Jessica had broken the unspoken rules when they'd left Brady.  Jessica had chosen Sam over Brady, and Sam had chosen a simpler life with his new lover over the more complicated life with his partner of several years.  Sam didn't blame Brady for being possessive, even more than before their breakup.  On some level he had to be concerned about Sam running off with another woman, but at least Brady was trying to be open to sharing again.

Sam knew that Brady was infatuated with him. He liked being loved.  He liked feeling like he belonged when he was with Brady.  Normally he'd avoid saying anything that might give the impression of commitment- it had always been Sam's responsibility to slow Brady down.  If Brady’d had his way they'd probably be living together in a cozy little 2 bedroom apartment in downtown Palo Alto as registered domestic partners- some sweet fantasy that was about a million miles from Sam's current interpersonal capacity.  Sam wasn't even prepared to tell Brady he secretly considered them boyfriends, but at the same time he wasn't prepared to let Brady think there was no future between them.

“Yes.”  Sam whispered.  “I'm yours.”

Brady was on him so enthusiastically Sam was nearly knocked backwards into the cupboards of the kitchenette.  Sam recovered quickly, grabbing at Brady in return.  Brady was palming Sam's dick through his pants when there was a knock at the door.  It took them a moment to break their kiss before Sam went to answered the door.  Sam appreciated the proud smirk on Brady's face as he adjusted his pants to hide his partial erection, then opened the door.

Stacy walked in and took off her coat revealing a short sleeveless smoky grey dress.  She’d considerately skipped her usual dark lipstick, though crimson & plum eyeshadow hinted that she hadn't just rolled out of bed.  Brady handed her a glass of wine, which matched her makeup all too well.  She sipped the wine, then strolled around the room, eyeing both of them in an almost baiting fashion.  Actually, her grey dress and nearly predatory confidence reminded Sam of a shark.

Sam didn't want to make the first move.  He didn't want to risk alienating either one of them.  Brady was perfectly capable of giving Sam his space, but not if he thought that Stacy was competition.  In order for this whole thing to work each of them needed to be comfortable with each pairing otherwise things could quickly turn jealous.  He was happy with both of them, but Brady & Stacy needed to enjoy each other's company too.  Thankfully, Stacy zeroed in on Brady after her second pass around the room.

She dragged her fingertips along Brady's shirt as she circled him, then she pulled it off of him.  Stacy took another sip of wine while unbuckling his belt one handed.  Brady pulled her into a kiss and she put down her wine glass to free up both hands. Brady's hand moved down her back, then grabbed her ass.  He pulled his head back to look at her in mild surprise at something.  Sam understood why once she slipped her dress off over her head.  She wasn't wearing anything under the dress.  Her fingers traced down her torso and she began playing with herself while still loosely held in Brady's arms.

Sam couldn't help but smile slightly at the dumbfounded expression on Brady's face, having been caught off guard by the sexual power play.  Normally, Brady was the one who tried to take the lead- The thought made Sam briefly wonder if he had a type, but the question was promptly disregarded.  He wanted to see how Brady would react.

Not one to be outdone, Brady immediately started kissing her deeply while playing with her.  A muffled moan escaped Stacy during a particularly ravenous kiss and she lifted her left leg, wrapping it around Brady.  Sam could hardly contain himself when he saw Brady start to finger her.  Stacy broke their kiss and glanced down Brady's body while biting her lip.  Brady let go of her for a moment in order to finish stripping.  She snapped her teeth playfully at Sam as Brady put on a condom.  

Brady grabbed her, pinning her to the nearby wall.  He lifted her up so that the tip of his dick was right against her.  When she nodded he pulled her down, pressing into her.  As Brady was fucking her against the wall, he glanced at Sam for his reaction.  Sam wasn't sure if he was the voyeuristic sort, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy watching his partners going at it.  He liked seeing them alight with passion, overcome with pleasure.  He liked being a part of that- He wanted to be a part of that.  Sam's chest was heaving with barely controlled eagerness.  Brady grinned slyly as he started fucking Stacy harder without taking his eyes off Sam.

He couldn't take it anymore.  Sam went over, cupped Brady's cheek with his hand and started kissing him.  Brady tugged at Sam's belt as Stacy yanked off his shirt.  As soon as Sam's clothes were off, Brady tossed Stacy onto the bed, then playfully shoved Sam backwards onto it beside her.  She rolled on top of Sam and kissed him.  She was that wonderful soft & wet warmth rubbing against him, but he forced himself to not risk slipping into her while he still didn't have a condom.  Before he could say something, Brady lifted Stacy up so that she was propped up on all fours over Sam and started fucking her.  Her face was just inches from his as she moaned, her eyes rolled back, fingers clenched the sheets on either side of him.  God he wanted to make her cum like that.

Sam rolled over and grabbed the box of condoms on the nightstand, but a particularly powerful thrust shook the bed, causing Sam's arm to knock over the bedside lamp, unplugging it from power.  The room suddenly dimmed, lit only by a much weaker lamp on the opposite side of the room, but that didn't seem to bother Brady & Stacy in the slightest.  The rhythmic shaking of the bed faltered only long enough for Brady's surprisingly strong hands to drag Sam back into the writhing mass of limbs, mouths, & more.  

Somehow in all the chaos Brady had grabbed the lube.  Soon everything was warm & wet.  Sam had barely slipped on a condom before one of them had started giving him head.  A slick finger slid into him, then another, & a third- it had to be Brady.  Somewhere further down the bed Stacy moaned.  Brady stopped blowing & fingering Sam and bed moved a bit.  Sam took the opportunity to climb on top of Stacy- it was his turn to make her cum.  While Sam was fucking Stacy, Brady moved up behind Sam and pressed into him, sandwiching Sam between them.  Brady no doubt loved the thrill of hearing them both moan with each hard thrust- him fucking Sam, who fucked Stacy in turn.  For Sam it was the best of both worlds, but it was more than that.  He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it, being pressed between two soft warm bodies.  He nearly came right then.

Not that that would've cut the night short.  With the three of them there, each of them had a chance to recover a bit as needed without bringing the fun to a halt.  They ended up calling it a night when they were all spent, salty with sweat, & breathless.  Brady managed to wrap an arm around Sam and kiss his nape before quiet little snores started emanating from him.  Stacy gave Sam a smug look as if to compliment the men's performances before falling asleep herself.

Sam took a moment to appreciate that he'd found two people that seemed to sexually compliment him & each other.  He fell asleep with Brady spooning him and Stacy sprawled, legs spread slightly in front of him.  At one point in the night he woke up to bed shaking rhythmically.  He looked over his shoulder to see Stacy riding Brady in the darkness.  Sam smiled at the idea that they were sincerely hitting it off, then fell back asleep.

* * *

The next morning Brady gave Stacy a ride back up the peninsula to her place.  Sam wouldn't have been surprised if they'd made a stop at Brady's spacious Palo Alto apartment complete with high ceilings, hardwood floor, & fur-lined cuffs adorning the king size bed.  With the sexual appetite of those two it could've been a day or more before he heard from either one of them.  Sam pulled the iPad from its hiding place between the pages of his most boring legal dictionary and began reading.

The books that Bhavya had provided Sam were interesting, but their practicality was not as clear as he had been hoping.  It seemed that less was known about demons than he had expected.  Most of the works on demons were written in such noncommittal terms that he wondered if the authors had actually been lawyers.  The lessons that he did take away were found between the lines of the page or synthesized from dozens of only vaguely agreeing sources.  At least the basic terminology was consistent, he was grateful for that.

Abyssal appeared to be the highest ranking of the three species of demons.  They were born in their respective Hell as a distinct and native species that was considered something akin to the aristocracy.  Their strong connection with their Hell made them incredibly powerful within that plane and in all respects related to their home.  By contrast, their power wasn't near as impressive on the other planes, only being slightly more than your standard Infernal or Anathema.  Abyssal tended to stay in their Hell because they considered their plane superior, only bothering to visit Earth for business or other planes for travel- Sam wasn't sure what that “travel” entailed.  It was hard to imagine a demon on vacation.

The arguably middle tier of demon was the Infernal, which were the souls of dead humans that had been rendered through torture into demons.  Their existence was transitional, lasting from years up to millennia until they were consumed, supposedly to be reincarnated or put to some other purpose- accounts varied widely.  It sounded like they were something of a working class demon, if such a thing were so easily truncated.  There were tens or hundreds of thousands of Infernal for every Abyssal, which might've tipped the scales toward some hierarchical shift, but for the innate power difference between the Abyssal & the Infernal within the Hells.  As essentially slaves of their Hell, Infernal could only visit another plane on business of their plane authorized by an Abyssal.

The last and least documented demon species was the Anathema.  Unlike the other demonic species, Anathema were corrupted on a plane other than a Hell and were therefore least controlled by the Hell to which they were bound.  They had an easier time interacting with different planes because they were not as strongly affiliated with their Hell.  Part of the reason they were so hard to document was because their abilities could vary widely depending on the circumstances of their corruption and they were therefore often mistaken for tricksters or other native Earth monsters.  If Abyssal were the aristocracy and the Infernal were the servant class, then the Anathema were generally regarded as something feral.

Beyond the species division, there was the issue of the multiple Hells.  Some sociopolitical structures varied between the Hells, but many of them at least shared the concept of Abyssal houses.  Most Hells seemed to contain dozens of houses, each consisting of up to a hundred closely affiliated Abyssal, but most were closer to one or two dozen.  The Abyssal leading each house was usually the most powerful in one respect or another since grabs for power weren't uncommon.  Houses controlled shares of their Hell, including the human souls, Infernal, and held a less understood interest in their Anathema.  It was all very interesting, but he wasn't sure what Abyssal houses meant to him in the grand scheme of things.  He wasn’t sure what any of it actually meant to him.

Sam laid in bed, iPad resting on his chest and considered the mysterious tabby cat.  It was some sort of demon.  Maybe the species mattered?  He supposed it might be an Anathema, it seemed wild enough and was on Earth.  Could a cat’s soul be corrupted?  He hadn't read anything about animal souls, so maybe not.  What did a corrupted soul even look like?  He added those questions to his ever growing list.

* * *

“I think I might have a lead on identifying specific demons.”  Stacy said as she walked into Sam's dorm room the following afternoon.  She tossed her purse onto the table, but didn't move to sit down.

“What's up?”

“Wren knows a guy that made some kind of deal with a demon a few years back.  If your demon messed with you in the last couple years, then it had to be local.”  She speculated.

“There are so many different Hells, the odds of this demon being connected to my Hell…”  Sam wasn't sure what the magnitude of the improbability was, but the odds had to be tiny.  “But supposedly demons from different Hells can distinguish between each other- at least enough to not get along.  Wren’s buddy's demon might be able to at least tell me which Hell I'm stuck dealing with.”

“How're you planning on getting information out of a demon?”

“You said the demon made some kind of deal.  I guess I'll see what kinds of things demons barter for.”  Sam shrugged.

Their leads on whatever demon may have marked him were few & far between, so he needed to take some strategic risks.  They had no way of knowing the who, when, why or how of the mark being placed on his soul.  Any intel was desperately needed.

Sam took a step toward the table to get to work, but Stacy lingered closer to the bed.

“You want to stretch a bit first?”  Stacy suggested inching toward the bed.

“Seriously?”  Sam stared at her.  “You might be worse than Brady.”

“If you've got a scoreboard there's one way to find out.”  She joked.  “But I get what you mean.  It's like the guy doesn't get tired.”

“Did you swing by his place yesterday?”

“You didn't tell me he's a trust fund kid.”  Stacy observed.  “The thread count on those sheets were higher than my bank account balance has ever been.”

“Do I need to ask you about your intentions?”  For some reason Sam wasn't actually concerned.

“Mostly to have us fuck on silk sheets more often.”  She replied.  “I've got plenty of other things to worry about than stealing your man.  Anyway, I'm pretty sure he's thinking about you even when he's tongue deep in me- not that I'm complaining.  He has a gifted tongue.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Aren't lawyers supposed to be blessed with a silver tongue too?”

“I'm not a lawyer yet.”

“Then it sounds like you need to keep practicing your craft.”  She countered as she sat down on the edge of his bed and parted her legs below a short black skirt.

It'd been almost two years since he'd gone down on a woman, but he was pleased to find that he hadn't lost his touch.  Part of him couldn't help but be aroused by the thought that Brady had done the same thing just the day before.  The thought of some future sexual adventure and the sound of Stacy's moans made him hard.  He put on a condom as she repositioned them so that she was on top.  They'd only been fucking for a few minutes when Stacy's eyes widened and she scrambled off of him.  Sam groaned at his dick being awkwardly dislodged, then glanced over to see what had startled her.

“Oh god.”  Stacy gasped.  

The tabby cat was sitting on the corner of the bed.  Sam grabbed the bed sheet to cover his dick.  Stacy pulled the sheet up to hide herself, accidentally uncovering Sam in the process.  Rather that fight Stacy in her shocked state, Sam took a far too small corner of the sheet, which barely covered anything.

“What the hell!”  Sam exclaimed at the cat.  He didn't even know where to begin- he was naked and talking to a cat.

“What the fuck is it doing here?”  Stacy asked knowing perfectly well it was the same tabby from the coffee shop in Outer Sunset.

“It just showed up a few days ago.”

“What does it want?”

“I have no clue-  Listen I've put up with your cryptic shit, but I'm drawing a line in the fucking sand.  Don't watch us having sex.”  Sam scolded the cat.  “I can deal with all your other crap, but if you pull some creepy shit like that again we are seriously not okay.”

The cat considered him for a moment, then hopped off the bed.  It walked over to the kitchenette, pawed open a cupboard, and went inside.  Sam & Stacy both just stared at the cupboard for several seconds in silence.

“I can't tell if you hurt his feelings or if he's giving us some privacy.”  Stacy commented.

“I never have a clue with it.”  He sighed lying back down on the bed.  Stacy climbed on top of Sam and started straddling him.  “Are you serious?  It can still hear us.”

“I was really close.”  Stacy said.  “I'm not about to let that cat cockblock me.”

“It's not a cat, it's a demon.”

“I'm not about to let that demon cockblock me.”  Stacy corrected.

“I need a minute.”  Sam groaned, having gone partially soft at the rude interruption.

“Can I keep playing with you?”

“Sure.”  She started blowing him in an attempt to get him going again.  When he was harder, she climbed on top of him.  She watched him to see if he was about to object to her actually riding him.

He waved his hand in a small gesture of consent, then laid there for a little while just trying to wrap his head around the moment.  His witch friend was unabashedly riding him trying to get herself off while a demon wearing a cat was hiding in the nearby cabinetry.  All he needed was to have a psychic vision to hit the trifecta of supernatural absurdity.  He should've thought the whole thing was insane- a normal person would've thought the whole thing was insane.  But he wasn't a normal person despite years of effort.

His life had become very strange in the last few months, but in a screwed up sort of way it felt familiar.  It was like the way the smell of old books mixed with gun oil reminded him of Bobby Singer’s house or how leather upholstery gave his lower back anticipatory aches.  The revival of the supernatural in his life wasn't something he'd chosen or even remotely wanted, but there was some reflex in him that had woken up.  Maybe he wasn't as fazed by things as he ought to be?  It was all bizarre, confusing, & periodically distressing- he wasn't completely emotionally numb to the experience, but he was pretty sure a normal person definitely would've had a more dramatic reaction.

Hopefully, someday his life would return to a dull routine where witches & demonic cats weren't part of his Sunday afternoon, but until then he supposed he'd have to work with what life had given him- even if that was just a few feeble leads on a demon or the goal of staying hard enough to help a friend get off despite a possible audience.  He closed his eyes and tried to enjoy the ride.

* * *

Sam woke up the next morning and rolled over in bed.  He stretched out across the sheets that still smelled like Brady & Stacy, despite neither of them having spent the night.  When he finally opened his eyes, he saw the tabby cat sleeping on top of his second pillow, the one that Brady liked to used.  Somehow that hardly felt surprising.  He resisted the urge to push the cat off the bed after the stunt it'd pulled the day before- though admittedly it had left them alone after being told off.

“That's Brady's pillow.”  The cat stretched across the pillow in a showing of complete indifference to Brady.  Its front right paw reached out, tapping Sam's nose.  “Can you not be a dick to Brady?”

The cat stared at him for several seconds, then reluctantly got up off the pillow.  It curled up between the crook of Sam's arm and his chest.  Once it was settled it licked Sam's bicep.  Sam sighed, then scratched under the cat's chin in exchange for its continued cooperation.

“Are you male?”  He paused a moment for any kind of reaction.  “Are you female?  Do you have a gender?”

Sam wasn't prepared to take the cat to the vet in order to figure out what sex it was.  The cat itself was potentially a meat puppet being driven around by something else entirely- well, maybe the demon wasn't that different.  It certainly seemed to enjoy getting scratched and taking naps.

“Do you have a name?”  Sam tried again, but the cat didn't react.  “Your name is now Furcifer.  I'm calling you Furry around other people and if you don't like it you can tell me your actual name.”

The cat lifted its head.  Sam hadn't realized that cats had brows capable of being furrowed, but somehow the demon had achieved it.  

“What kind of demon are you?”  Sam continued the futile line of questioning.  “Abyssal?  Infernal?  Anathema?”

When the cat didn't react in a telling way he reached out and cautiously started petting it.  He wasn't warming up to the strange creature, instead he was hoping he could feel it tense or gain some other insight into it.  

“Are you just being a dick like usual or do you not want me to know what kind of demon you are?”  Sam mused.  

The cat’s tail stopped moving for the briefest moment at the latter guess.  There could've been several reasons why Furcifer didn't want him to know what kind of demon it was.  The demon might've been sent to spy on him and was trying to conceal its identity, but there had to be more subtle ways for a demon to keep an eye on him.  The scenario that seemed most likely was that the cat was an Infernal and it wasn't supposed to be on Earth.  Why else would a demon choose to live as a cat?  It was possible the demon just wasn't entirely sane- not that he knew how sanity worked for demons, surely living in a Hell messed with the scale.  

“Should I be worried about you?”  

Furcifer licked him in what felt like reassurance.

“Don't worry, I won’t tell anyone you’re here.”  Sam whispered his guess, earning loud purring in return.  He wrapped his arm around the cat, then fell back to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I generally avoid writing explicit sex scenes when I can otherwise get away with the literary equivalent of fading to black. I think I spent weeks debating whether or not to include the first time Sam/Brady/Stacy have a sober three way, and if so how much to include. In the end I decided that the way they interact with each other helps convey their relationships- and at a certain point there was so much smut already on the page I just said fuck it.
> 
> Furcifer isn't named after Lucifer. I found out that Furcifer is Latin for scoundrel, while reading up on the demon Furfur. I thought it was too damn cool/cute to pass up.
> 
> Also, I know that this episode & the last one are both slight departures from the bleak/drama that the series normally has. The next one gets back into a bit heavier territory. I just needed to get a little of this stuff with Brady established and to be perfectly honest I've been dying to properly introduce Furcifer for like two months.


End file.
